


STR8

by cadkitten



Category: D (Band)
Genre: Cumshot, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-08
Updated: 2012-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:58:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hide-Zou insists he’s straight and Hiroki knows it to be the truth. But he’s willing to set that aside if only Zou will as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	STR8

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elyachan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elyachan/gifts).



> Prompt[s]: Hiroki teasing Hide-Zou and then molesting his possibly unwilling ass. (Zou's straighter than hell...)  
> For [](http://elya-chan.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://elya-chan.livejournal.com/)**elya_chan**  
>  Beta Readers: gothic_hime  
> Song[s]: "Board Up the House (Renholder Remix)" by Genghis Tron

He’s always been at the forefront of my mind, just waiting right there in the wings to take me to wherever my mind sees fit. I think in some form or fashion, he knows the truth. He knows he’s being watched in a way that’s anything but platonic. But some part of me thinks that he also doesn’t really care. When I reach for him, randomly grab him and pull him into my arms, he doesn’t struggle anymore. He used to, ages ago. Now he just weakly protests and then gives up without so much as a fight. Maybe I’ve worn him down to a nub of the flame he used to be with my advances, or maybe it’s just okay now because it’s me.

Today, he’s sitting quietly in the corner of the room, one slim leg propped over the other in the most blatantly masculine of ways. Maybe it’s that sort of thing that actually turns me on about him. That nothing he does it feminine or even remotely crossing that line… at least not action-wise. He’s staring out the window with that lost sort of look on his face that tells me he didn’t sleep well last night. It’s a look that makes me want to wipe it away from his features and I know my plan of attack before I even begin to cross the room to his side.

I’m two steps away from him when he looks up at me and offers a weak sort of smile. A moment later, I’ve launched myself at him and he’s groaning under me as I flail my way to sitting more properly on top of him. His dark eyes peer up at me, eyebrows arching in question as to what I’m doing. His hands push at me a little, but nothing substantial. When I don’t budge after a few moments, he gives up and just sits there, crossing his arms with some difficulty and mock-glaring at me.

From behind us, I hear a chuckle that is unmistakably Asagi’s and then the soft movement of feet as he exits the room. I think by now they all assume that Hide-Zou and I do more than we actually do. I’ve never gotten more than a kiss out of him, but the way the other’s vacate the room, you’d think they know something I don’t. I shuffle around on him some more until I’m straddling him and have my hands on his shoulders, what I’m sure amounts to a stupid grin on my face as I push some of that gorgeous hair back behind his ear. “Why so grumpy today, Zou?”

He huffs out a sigh and shrugs. “Bad night.” Such a typical guy response. No details, no lingering descriptions on why it was a bad night, just a simple few words that should tell me everything I need to know.

“You can do better than that. Bad, why?” I have to prod him, have to watch him squirm for an answer, knowing it’s making him uncomfortable that I’m now in his lap and interrogating him to within an inch of his life.

Another shrug. “I guess I just don’t like being stood up. How about you?” His eyes flick up to mine, something close to anger burning in them before he looks away again.

My mouth forms a little ‘o’ and I don’t have anything to say to that. Being stood up is the lowest of low and I’d never wish it on anyone. But then, I had no idea he had been seeing anyone, so I couldn’t have known that was the problem. A few moments of silence spread between us and then finally, I offer, “I wouldn’t have stood you up. You’re much too special for that.”

He glances back up at me and then away again, shaking his head a little, though I can see the start of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “You’ll never give up, will you?”

“You’ve stopped protesting,” I respond just as easily, my head tilted as though there’s a question in my words.

A soft sigh huffs from his lips and he shakes his head. “Honestly… with how bad I’ve been striking out with women, I’d be half tempted. Except… I’m not gay.” He pats my head in a manner he knows infuriates me, his eyes catching mine to soften the blow with a look of genuine sadness.

My mind imagines the unspoken words, words like, _”I could use you for a fuck, but then it would be nothing more because I’m not gay,”_ and I find that I don’t mind the idea of it all that much. Sure, I’d like more, but part of me just wants a piece of that sweet ass. I think more of me would be happy than have an issue with it.

He pushes a little at me. “Are you getting up or staying here all day?”

“Staying here all day.” I make myself more comfortable against him and lean more of my weight toward him.

“Fine.”

And that’s the end of that, both of us just sitting and waiting on something that will likely never come.

\-----------

Hours later, I find myself in a situation I never actually thought I’d experience. Zou has me pinned against the wall of the bathroom stall, one arm holding one of my wrists above my head and the other working open the front of his own pants. His kiss is rough, desperate, like that of a starving man. I can tell he’s upset more than anything, but I don’t actually mind where this is going. He’ll get his aggression worked out and I’ll get a taste of him like I’ve wanted for so many years now.

He stops fumbling with his pants and pulls back from the kiss, staring down between us, the sound of him gritting his teeth obvious in the small room. He’s uncertain, second guessing what he’s doing, and I have to stop that from happening as quickly as possible.

I wrench my arm free and slide to my knees. My hands bat his out of the way, fingers reaching to grasp his already hard dick, stroking him as I peer up into that conflicted face. A few moments slip past and then his eyes close and his body relaxes just the tiniest amount. Permission, though unspoken, has gone between us.

I work him for a moment with just my hand, watching as the crease between his brows deepens, a look of almost pain filtering across that face. And then I lean forward, tongue flicking out to lap at the head of his dick, wrenching a groan free from his throat. His hips arch slightly toward me and I open my mouth, letting him slide in, head pushing across my tongue on the way in. I swallow all of him that I can, enjoying the moment for what it is and nothing more.

One of his hands comes down and spears in my hair, holding the brown and blonde locks back from my face as he pushes in ever so slowly. Once I have all of him inside my mouth, he stills, dick tensing and relaxing a few times, as if testing the waters. He shudders and then draws himself back out before pushing back in, his pace achingly slow, but so intentional that I can’t even argue with it.

The moments slip by, the slight salty taste of precum on my tongue as he fucks my mouth reminding me that this really is happening. As slowly as I can, I reach and undo my own pants, not wanting to disturb him in the process. My dick is heavy with desire, my hand fitting around it and slowly stroking in time to what Zou’s doing to my mouth. A thrill runs through me, pulling me higher as his pace slowly begins to ramp up.

His hand slams the side of the stall in frustration, a whine escaping his throat, pace faltering. He wants more, I can see that plainly. But at the same time, he doesn’t. I won’t push, but there’s no way I’m not finishing at least this much. My free hand comes to grab his hip, holding him in place as I start to bob over his cock, almost frantic in my pace.

His body goes rigid, hips pushed forward, the hand on my head gripping my hair tightly. My hand works over my dick in an equally frantic manner, the sound of my actions filling the room. The moment his hips jerk, I know he’s going to cum for me. His hand holds my head still and for a few blissful seconds, he fucks my mouth, not holding back a single thing. “Hiroki,” he groans out at the last possible second, the jerk of his hips giving away what’s happening before the first splash of cum hits my tongue.

My hand is nothing but a blur over my own dick, edging me toward relief as he fills my mouth with his offering. It isn’t but maybe a few seconds after he pulls his dick free of my mouth and I swallow that I’m over the edge, shooting my load across the black tiles of the floor, staining them white with my pleasure.

He watches me, dark eyes studying my body and then the mess on the floor as he tucks his slackening dick away into his pants. He offers a lopsided smirk and then he’s gone, pushing out of the stall and walking away as if nothing happened at all. I suppose that’s his way of dealing with this… and I find that I’m actually okay with it.

Maybe… maybe next time he’ll touch me in return. If there is a next time….

**The End**  



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